


Three Can Keep a Secret

by Star_Going_Supernova



Category: Godzilla: King of The Monsters (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cute, Dadzilla, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Implied Torture of a Child, Maddie is Godzilla's Biological Daughter AU, Momthra, Murder, No Titans AU, Past Child Abuse, Scars, Spies & Secret Agents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:54:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24514939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_Going_Supernova/pseuds/Star_Going_Supernova
Summary: If you had asked Mothra to guess the craziest, most outlandishly improbable thing she could possibly find on her doorstep that afternoon, absolutely nothing she could’ve said would’ve been even remotely close to the truth.(an AU in which everyone has a secret)
Relationships: Godzilla (Legendary | MonsterVerse) & Madison Russell, Godzilla/Mothra (Kaiju), Mothra & Madison Russell
Comments: 113
Kudos: 166





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A comment from Neminine 100% inspired this, I thought it was funny enough to write, so here we are. No Titans, this is purely human shenanigans, and I don’t give a single crap about their names. I initially made the joke that it’d be romcom, but hoo boy, this is not a romcom. Gosh, this was supposed to be cute nonsense, but instead, it grew a _plot._
> 
> Hope y’all enjoy it anyway! Please heed the warnings!

If you had asked Mothra to guess the craziest, most outlandishly improbable thing she could possibly find on her doorstep that afternoon, absolutely nothing she could’ve said would’ve been even remotely close to the truth.

Godzilla _alone_ was enough to knock her off-kilter. Their friends joked that they were an on-again off-again sort of couple, but the reality was closer to an “are we on the same continent or on opposite sides of the world this week-month-year?” situation. Last she knew, he was supposed to be somewhere in Australia, _not_ on the front doorstep of her rented house in Minnesota. 

The splatters of blood decorating his shirt and face weren’t helping her comprehension skills. The weapon too complicated to be a rifle sticking up over his shoulder wasn’t either.

But the thing that took the cake, the thing that really made Mothra question whether she was dreaming or not, was the child propped up on his hip.

She was a tiny thing, couldn’t be more than five or six years old, wearing a t-shirt that was definitely made for an adult and no shoes. Her dark brown hair was an absolute bird’s nest, and what Mothra initially thought were freckles on her face, upon closer inspection, turned out to be tiny splatters of dried blood.

“What,” Mothra said, remarkably calmly considering what she was looking at, “the actual hell, Godzilla.”

He had the decency to wince as he crouched down to set the little girl on her feet—he’d always been a large man, with broad shoulders to match his intimidating height, but the presence of a preschooler-sized kid made him look borderline ridiculous—and nudge her toward Mothra.

“I don’t have time to explain, Mo, I’m sorry, just—this is my daughter, don’t open the door for anyone other than me, I’ll be back as soon as I can, be good,” he got out all in one breath. She was confused over that last bit for a second before realizing, of course, it was directed at the girl. His daughter, apparently.

He was running off down her driveway before she could respond.

Mothra stared at the otherwise empty street, the whole interaction lasting a minute tops, and slowly looked down at the child she’d been left with.

Whatever else, she didn’t doubt Godzilla’s claims of fatherhood for even a second, not when she found herself staring into a mirror image of his unnaturally blue eyes. The girl, oddly silent, merely stared back.

There was really nothing else for it. Mothra stepped back, opened the door a little wider, and said, “Please, come in.”

The child did, with a little hop over the doorjamb, and then, adorably, she wiped her bare feet on the inside mat. This was about the moment it occurred to Mothra that her _idiot_ of a boyfriend hadn’t even mentioned the girl’s name.

Mothra crouched down so the poor kid didn’t have to keep tilting her head back, and felt her blood boil a little at the details she was suddenly noticing. Bruises peeked out from beneath the oversized sleeves and on her shoulder where the shirt collar was slipping. Her wrists were red and irritated looking, and there was a terrible scar that twisted up around her right leg like a snake wound tight, from ankle to knee and disappearing under the jagged edge of the cutoff shirt.

She took a deep breath, extremely conscious of the girl’s too-careful gaze pinned on her face, and quietly asked, “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Maddie,” the girl whispered.

“It’s nice to meet you, Maddie,” Mothra said, making sure to keep her voice down. “My name’s Mothra, and I’m a close friend of your dad’s.”

Maddie glanced back at the closed front door for a split second before nodding.

“Would you like to get cleaned up?”

Another nod.

Mothra slowly stood and offered her hand. Maddie stared at if for a long moment. She gingerly took it, as if she didn’t know quite how to hold it.

They headed toward the staircase like this, Mothra taking measured steps to avoid rushing the child. “Would you like a bath?”

After some consideration, Maddie nodded. “Never had a bath before,” she whispered.

Oh, Mothra was going to strangle Godzilla when he came back. He really couldn’t have stuck around to offer a _bit_ more explanation than “she’s my daughter, don’t open the door”?

They ended up in the master bathroom beside the frankly ridiculous tub that Mothra never really used. She sat on the edge to get the water at a comfortable temperature. Maddie stood beside her and looked around, visibly curious.

She let the tub fill about halfway or so, to about where she imagined it would come up just below Maddie’s shoulders, and shut the water off. Her guest hadn’t moved an inch when she turned back to check on her. Going to her knees again, Mothra gestured at the shirt and asked, “May I?”

Maddie studied her face. Nodded. Held still while Mothra carefully pulled the hem up and over her head, only moving her arms when it became absolutely necessary.

It took all of Mothra’s hard-won self-control not to gasp. For one thing, the scar on her leg continued all the way up to her _hip_ for goodness sake, where it ended at what could only be described as a _crater_ in Maddie’s pale skin. The bruises were worse than she had imagined, and worst of all, an old, pale line of scar tissue bisected Maddie’s lower chest and stomach, ending an inch or two below her mangled bellybutton.

Maddie was still watching her, her tiny, black-and-blue shoulders tense. There was something unnerving in the way she held herself utterly motionless with her arms straight down at her sides.

Setting the shirt aside, Mothra smiled without showing her teeth. “Do you need help getting in?” she asked. The tiled ledge surrounding the tub was tall.

Maddie examined it and nodded. She weighed _nothing_ to Mothra when she picked her up—not from her armpits, because _bruises_ —and deposited her in the warm water. The little girl gasped lightly but didn’t seem distressed, so she didn’t stop.

She stepped back as Maddie raised her hands and watched water trickle through her fingers.

“Will you be okay on your own for a minute? I’ll be right back, just want to find something for you to put on when you’re done.”

She received yet another silent nod in answer. Mothra ducked into the bedroom and shook herself, ran through an old breathing exercise, and struggled not to hit something. Once she didn’t feel fit to burst, she went to her dresser and started to dig through the drawers, hoping to find something that would be comfy enough for an injured child.

In the end, she settled on an old sweatshirt of hers that was worn-soft and sleeveless. She briefly smiled down at the fleecy material, remembering when the shoulders had gotten too tight so she, determined to continue wearing it, had merely hacked the sleeves off. She got another year or so out of it before relegating it to a bottom drawer, too sentimental to get rid of it.

And thank goodness she hadn’t. Since sleeves would only get in the way of doing something about those injuries, this was perfect. Mothra had never been as much of a t-shirt wearer as Godzilla.

Underwear was a bit more of a problem, especially considering the uncomfortable fact that Maddie hadn’t already been wearing any. The shirt had been more than long enough to hide that—so would the sweatshirt—but still. It was a problem that would have to wait, since Mothra had already left a child of an unknown age alone in a tub for several minutes.

She returned to the bathroom. Once again, Maddie didn’t appear to have shifted even a little. Her hair was still dry, and still a tangled mess.

“I’m sorry I don’t really have anything appropriate for a child,” Mothra said, setting the sweatshirt down on the counter. “Godzilla’s never mentioned you before.”

Maddie poked at her bruised shoulders and hummed. “Didn’t know about me.”

Forget strangling him, Mothra was going to pull out his spine and beat him over the head with it.

But that would also have to wait. For now, she had a child to take care of. Armed with a wide-toothed comb and an unused cup for rinsing, she sat down on the tiled ledge and smiled. “What do you say we do something about your hair, hm?”

Maddie was agreeable and didn’t make so much as a peep while Mothra painstakingly wet and detangled her hair, which was longer than she’d expected. The bathwater was left cloudy by the end of everything, soiled by dirt and blood.

While the water began to drain, Mothra grabbed the fluffiest towel she had from the linen shelf and wrapped it around Maddie as soon as she stood up. Clean for possibly the first time in a while, and burritoed rather comfortably, Maddie was content to sit on the counter and allow Mothra to tend to her wrists.

They were rubbed raw and angry from something, though there was no evidence of any bleeding. Better safe than sorry, she lightly spread some Neosporin over the abrasions before wrapping them in gauze. Maddie seemed quietly fascinated with the whole process. The sweatshirt went on without fuss.

“Well,” Mothra huffed pleasantly as she put her hands on her hips. “Not that that’s done, I don’t suppose you’re hungry?”

Maddie dared to smile a little bit, apparently happy with the sweatshirt, and said, a little louder than her previous whispers, “Yes, please.”

Since, miracle of miracles, Maddie wasn’t also malnourished, Mothra felt a grilled cheese and tomato soup would be a safe bet. At the very least, Maddie’s face visibly brightened when she took her first bite, so that was a win in Mothra’s book.

Eating seemed to be the final straw, as Maddie finally began to droop after what Mothra could only guess to be a long, stressful day. Maybe many days, she didn’t know. _Yet_.

She ended up carrying the child back upstairs, where she had the pleasure of absolutely swaddling Maddie in the thick comforter on the bed. With her face half-buried in a pillow, Maddie peered up at Mothra, who remained sitting with her back to the headrest.

Removing the blood splatters from her face had revealed real freckles beneath them, scattered across her cheeks and nose. Mothra thought they suited her well.

“Go to sleep, sweetheart,” she whispered. “I’ll be right here, promise.”

“If my dad gets back…?”

“I’ll wake you up. If he doesn’t do it himself first, just by thundering up the stairs,” she said with a smile, which widened when Maddie giggled.

Mothra hummed the same tune she used to make Godzilla drop off faster, and was charmed to find it worked just as well on his daughter. She ran her fingers through Maddie’s hair, which was adorably fluffy when it wasn’t dirty and tangled, until the little girl’s breathing was deep and even.

Only once Maddie was asleep did Mothra slide off the bed and silently pull the long metal box out from under it. She punched in the safe’s code and flipped open the top. Taking some of its contents with her, she slipped back into place beside Maddie and rested one hand on her head to continue stroking her hair.

The other, she rested on the modified assault rifle in her lap. She didn’t know what sort of trouble Godzilla had gotten into this time, but she would have his back like she always did. And Godzilla had told her not to open the door, had silently all but begged Mothra to keep his daughter safe.

She would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. Should I continue it? 
> 
> • [my tumblr](https://star-going-supernova.tumblr.com) •


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A surprise birthday update! Well, not really a surprise, if you follow my tumblr, lol. Regardless, here's the eagerly asked for chapter two! 
> 
> Please heed the tags! If you didn't notice, "Implied Murder" is no longer implied! Nothing too graphic, but the warning stands. 
> 
> Enjoy!!

It was late enough into the night to be extremely early in the morning when Mothra heard a series of sharp knocks come from downstairs. Recognizing the pattern, she remained where she was when the sound of her back door opening reached her.

Even when he was being careful to stay quiet, Godzilla’s footsteps were plainly audible. He’d never quite been able to sneak up on Mothra. The moment he entered the room, his eyes zeroed in first on Mothra, then on the child-sized lump behind her hip, where they lingered for a long moment.

She watched the tension bleed out of him, faced with the incontrovertible proof that Maddie was safe.

Despite the dim lighting in the bedroom, Mothra easily took in the absolutely mess the man had made of himself in the hours he’d spent—well, killing people, based on the amount of blood soaking his clothes.

Holding a finger to her lips, Mothra pointedly glanced at Maddie, who remained entirely asleep, and then jerked her head towards the bathroom. She must’ve made a disgusted face, because Godzilla grinned and gestured down at himself as if he saw no problem.

In a near inaudible whisper, Mothra told him, “You’re not touching this bed _or_ this child before you shower. And then we will have _words_.”

He rolled his eyes before vanishing through the open door. A few minutes later, she heard the shower turn on. Mothra glanced down at Maddie. There was no sign of her having been disturbed, unless she was simply _very_ good at faking it.

Mothra quietly tapped her fingers against her gun, pondering which of her many questions she would demand an answer to first. Selfishly, she wanted to ask who Maddie’s mother was, as the child wasn’t old enough to have been born before Mothra and Godzilla had started dating. A mission, of course, could be the answer, though she’d always thought of him as more careful than that.

They all had to be, simply because of who they were and what they were part of. For Godzilla to have a daughter, a _biological_ daughter… Mothra sighed and ran her fingers through Maddie’s hair.

She wouldn’t ask, though, because no matter the answer, it would change nothing. She could wish, in the privacy of her own mind, that Maddie was hers. _Theirs_.

The information she truly needed was who had hurt Maddie. Their intentions and purpose for doing so, too.

Perhaps it was a good thing Mothra was on leave between assignments. She had no present duties to get in the way of this new mystery.

She held her tongue as Godzilla reappeared in the bedroom, washed free of blood and wearing only a towel. He rummaged through the drawer of clothes Mothra always kept for him and settled on something simple and comfortable. Excellent. He was in no rush now, which meant Mothra could and would get the answers to her questions.

She wasn’t heartless, though—quite the opposite—so she didn’t begin pestering him just yet. Not when he was silently rounding the bed and staring down at Maddie with an achingly soft look in his eyes.

Oh, but Mothra had _missed_ him.

Placing one knee and his hand on the mattress for support, he leaned over his daughter—and that would take getting used to, wouldn’t it?—and pressed his free palm against her cheek. And since Maddie was so small, and Godzilla so large, he very nearly covered the entire side of her head.

Maddie whined quietly and wiggled a bit. Mothra couldn’t tell if she was trying to push closer or pull away. Regardless, Godzilla lowered his head further—he was more on the bed than off it, at this point—and whispered, “Hey, hey, shh… it’s all right. It’s just me.”

Without any other in-between stage, Maddie seemed to go from sleeping to fully alert wakefulness in the blink of an eye. For less than a second, in the infinitesimal amount of time it took for her eyes to open and focus on Godzilla’s face, her body tensed and her face reflected fear.

Mothra’s blood boiled. No child should wake up like that. The sorts of things—monsters—that made children learn to wake up like that—the likes of her and Godzilla were the bogeymen to those monsters.

She’d get names out of Godzilla. Today. No matter whether he tried to dissuade her or not.

For now, she watched him settle entirely on the bed so he could use both hands to scoop Maddie up, pressing her to his chest.

“You okay?” he whispered, his thumb brushing over her uncovered freckles with a little smile. Mothra had seen the pictures, knew he used to have his own before they faded as he aged.

Maddie nodded.

“Use your words, squirt,” he said, not quite admonishing. More like he was trying to remind her.

“My wrists hurt,” she whispered, eyes lowered. “But my heart is good. Slow.”

“That’s good,” Godzilla said. He shifted around so he was leaning against the headboard beside Mothra, keeping Maddie curled up in his arms. She seemed ready to go back to sleep, her ear pressed over his heart. Without letting his eyes leave his daughter, he half-turned his head toward Mothra. “Her wrists?”

“Took care of them. The skin wasn’t broken as far as I could tell. They’ll probably itch while they heal.” She paused. “Her heart?”

Godzilla scowled. “She has trouble with emotions, or at least, expressing them. Saying she’s happy or upset is hard for her. Concrete stuff is easier, like pain. If her heart’s good, it means she feels happy. Slow means she feels safe.”

They sat in silence for a minute. Eventually, Mothra asked, “Do you want to explain it yourself, or would you rather I ask questions?”

He sighed. “I’ll give you the short version, and if there’s anything you want to know more about, then you can ask. Sound good?”

“By all means.” Mothra gestured for him to go ahead.

“I was in Australia, as you know. Traffickers, nothing special. Me and Behemoth were sent in and took care of it. Textbook wrap-up. We got the call before we could even leave, Monarch had information on some underhanded dealings. They suspected human experiments, but they weren’t sure about how… serious it might be. And they didn’t know which organization the information was good for.”

Mothra tilted her head back to stare up at the ceiling. Human experimentation was always unpleasant to deal with. Sometimes, when they were lucky, it was simple stuff—closer to human medical trials than anything. Awful nonetheless, but those people could usually go home at the end of the mission.

She’d seen some who didn’t. Couldn’t.

“Monarch split us up for information gathering,” Godzilla continued. “They brought Scylla in too, sent each of us to check out a different suspected organization.” He took a deep breath, radiating anger, and Mothra watched his arms tighten slightly around the child in his arms. “I found records about her. Found out what they’d done. Tracked ’em to upstate New York and ripped the building apart.”

“Which organization?” Mothra whispered. There were dozens she could think of off the top of her head who could and would do this. Some were worse than others, and she held her breath in anticipation.

“WASP,” Godzilla snarled. “It was WASP. And it gets worse, Mo, it gets so much worse. I can’t trust Monarch. Not with her.”

She was already feeling shocked from his answer, but the growled sentence that followed struck her mute. Monarch… Monarch was home, in a way. It was where they’d met, where they’d gotten to know their fellow agents as friends, where they could let their guards down in a way they so often couldn’t out in the world.

To be unable to trust Monarch? Her hands clenched involuntarily around her weapon, and she took comfort in the cold solidity of its presence.

Godzilla let her process his declaration in silence as he raised Maddie slightly so he could touch his forehead to hers. He looked significantly calmer when he forced himself to relax again.

“Why?” Mothra finally asked.

“Some of the information I found was too detailed,” Godzilla told her. “I know what it looks like when a leak fills in the holes. One of ours is passing intelligence to WASP.”

He swallowed audibly before leaning over a bit. She met him in the middle, their heads resting against each other. “You’re the only one I can trust right now,” he whispered. “And I can’t face WASP by myself.”

The unspoken: WASP wouldn’t leave him alone. They wanted Maddie back.

Mothra pulled away to sit up on her knees, facing Godzilla and his daughter. She pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and set her hand on his arm besides Maddie’s head.

“You don’t have to. I’m with you—both of you—today, tomorrow, and always.”

There was still a lot he needed to explain, and plenty of questions she would ask soon enough. For now, though, Mothra let him pull her in so she was tucked against him, with Maddie held between them.

This—this sense of family and belonging the likes of which she’d rarely dared to imagine—was in danger. The love of her life and his precious daughter were being _hunted_. Maddie was scarred, and so many of her mannerisms pointed to years of abuse. The people, the _monsters,_ who had had her before Godzilla found her would stop at nothing to get her back. She knew that with cold, cruel certainty. That was simply the nature of WASP.

So she would do as she had always done when she or someone she loved was put in danger: she’d fight like hell to keep them safe. No matter what.

• • • 

In a dark room very far away from Minnesota, a man leaned back in his chair and watched the grainy footage containing the systematic murder of several of his hired mercenaries. On the other side of his desk, two grunts nervously shuffled their feet.

Godzilla lunged forward across the screen’s image with a silent snarl and jammed a serrated blade into a man’s throat. With a violent jerk of his arm, he yanked it out to the side in a messy spray of blood.

He was on top of his next victim before the man’s body even hit the ground.

“And the child?”

The two personnel exchanged a grim look. The shorter one answered, “There was no sign of her, sir. The last time she was spotted was at the Illinois-Wisconsin border.”

The footage showed Godzilla taking one mercenary’s head in his hand and forcefully slamming it into the ground. Once, twice, three times—the man’s face was unrecognizable, his body limp. A bullet grazed Godzilla’s upper arm. It didn’t slow him down, not for a second.

The man behind the desk steepled his fingers. “And how do you think the boss will like that answer?”

“He won’t,” the taller man said. His voice shook.

“Mm, yes. They,” he waved careless at the screen. A point-blank shot exploded through a woman’s head, “should be thankful to have died at Godzilla’s hand. Failure won’t be tolerated, gentlemen.” He stood and braced his hands on the desk to lean forward over it, holding eye contact with each employee. “You’d do well to remember that. Go.”

They both turned and hurried out in silence.

He returned to his seat and paused the video, right as Godzilla had turned to face the camera, more or less. His face was frozen in an expression of true rage, made all the more potent by the blood smeared across his cheeks like war paint.

“You’re a fool, Godzilla, if you think you can keep the child out of our hands forever. We will find you. Yes. You cannot stay hidden for long.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens! I had a lot of details already worked out in my head before I even started the first chapter, and I'm amazed at how well the basic bits and pieces of KotM fit into this verse. 
> 
> Much love to everyone who was so enthusiastic about the last chapter! ❤️
> 
> • [my tumblr](https://star-going-supernova.tumblr.com) •


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We get some Godzilla POV in this chapter! Eventually, I'll include some flashback chapters, but I want to get the story going a little more before that. 
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy!

The next morning, Mothra had the unparalleled honor of serving Maddie her first ever pancakes. The way her eyes lit up at the first bite, and the way she wiggled a tiny bit in apparent happiness, more than made up for the mess of batter on her countertop.

“Do you have a plan in mind?” Mothra asked Godzilla quietly. They were both leaning back against the edge of the counter by the coffee machine, mugs at the ready, watching Maddie eat. She seemed quite content to carefully cut out each bite in a perfect little triangle. “Or was finding me your plan?”

“I didn’t think much about what would happen after getting here,” he admitted, just as quiet. His focus, Mothra noticed, was laser-sharp on the butterknife Maddie kept picking up and putting down. “I was hoping to catch a break, mostly.”

“Fair. Now, I know you said you can’t trust Monarch, and I’m not going to try to convince you to change your mind. But how do you feel about maybe trusting specific individuals?”

Godzilla considered this. “Depends on who.” His shoulders hunched in a little. “It’s not that I don’t trust your judgment, Mo, it’s just… I refuse to take even the slightest risk. I know I’m reckless. But not this time. Not with her.”

They watched Maddie use the fork to carefully lift the edge of the pancake up so she could find one of the chocolate chips Mothra had included. She set the pancake back down and cut a triangle around the spot of chocolate. She put the piece in her mouth and wiggled again.

It was agonizingly adorable. Mothra bit her lip to keep from audibly cooing. Godzilla didn’t seem to be faring much better.

“I can’t lose her,” Godzilla whispered harshly. The way he hissed it out sounded almost like a reprimand to himself, or a reminder. As if he’d forget her importance to him. “I’ve had her for less than a week, and I can’t imagine not having her.”

“We’ll do everything in our power and then some to keep her safe,” Mothra promised him.

He reached out and laced their fingers together. “I know. I know.” He chuckled. “I’d never really thought about having a kid, y’know. Monarch’s rule about that didn’t bother me. But now that I have one—that I have _her_ …”

Mothra squeezed his hand. “Have faith, love. We’re professionals.”

“We are pretty good, aren’t we?”

“Yes, we are. The best. So let’s use what we know and decide where we go from here.” She watched Godzilla close his eyes and take a deep breath. When he opened them, she knew she was looking at Godzilla, the Titan, not the man.

“Assuming WASP can’t be reasoned with,” he started, at which Mothra interjected, “And they can’t.”

He nodded and continued, “Then our objective is simple: rip WASP apart to the point they can’t retaliate. Ideally, the damage is bad enough they never reform.”

Mothra sighed. “Simple. Very well. I don’t think I need to tell you that we can’t possibly do this on our own.”   
  
“Which brings us back to you,” Godzilla said. “You have someone in mind who can help.”

“The Chens. Not only are they third generation Monarch and I can’t imagine them turning traitor for that reason alone, they’re good personal friends. I trust them, Godzilla.” She watched him think over her words. “Their help would give us a significant advantage, and I’m confident they would be able to help us determine which of the Titans we can definitively trust.”

“And we’ll need the other Titans,” Godzilla said, both admitting to it and continuing Mothra’s train of thought. “If we take out enough of WASP’s top players at once, the grunts’ll be easy pickings.”

“It will be no small task to track them down,” Mothra reminded him.

“The Mutos will be able to find them. What are the nerds calling themselves these days?”

“Fey and Neo, last I heard.”

“Heh. To each their own. They’ll be the first we look into once we reach the Chens.” He looked over at her. “Do you know where they are?”

“Yes. You’re okay with including them?”

“You vouched for them.”

Mothra leaned up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “Simple as that, hm?”

Godzilla made a grumbly noise and picked up his nearly-forgotten coffee mug to bury his nose in it.

Smiling to herself, Mothra granted him mercy and said, “We should leave soon, then. It’d be a good idea to pick up supplies before we truly set out.” Eyeballing Maddie, who was nearly finished with her breakfast, she added, “She needs proper clothes.”

“Aw, hell. You just reminded me of something.” Godzilla tilted his head back, looking pained. “I scrapped her original set early on—better safe than sorry—but I could’ve sworn I’d ditched those WASP lackeys back in Wisconsin.”

Understanding where he was going with this, Mothra winced. “You think you’re being tracked.”

“Unless you advertise your presence here, how else could they have known this is where we were headed?”

“She’s not wearing a bracelet or anything,” Mothra said lowly. “And if you dumped the clothes she was wearing, then.” She let out a little breath. “It would have to be an implant.”

Godzilla growled and banged his fist on the counter. “We have to get rid of it,” he hissed.

“Yes,” Mothra agreed. “But we have to find it first. And then…” She didn’t bother saying what they were both thinking. There was only one way to remove an implanted tracker, after all. Even if deactivating it was an option, an element of uncertainty would remain—and they couldn’t afford to be uncertain.

“How do you want to do this?” she asked.

He dragged his palm down his face. “You get the supplies. Maybe she knows where it is.”

Mothra laid her hand on his arm. “If you don’t want to—”

“I’m doing it. Not that I don’t trust you with it, but I…” Godzilla growled and shook his head. “I just have to do it myself.”

“All right. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Giving him one last look and finding only steely determination in his expression, Mothra turned and silently left the kitchen. She had bandages and a scalpel to find.

• • •

Godzilla pulled one of the chairs around so he could sit right next to Maddie while facing her. She’d finished her pancakes by now, and as he sat down, she turned to face him as well. She shifted off her knees so her legs were tucked alongside her instead of below her.

He took a deep breath. “All right, squirt, here’s the plan.” He’d learned early on that Maddie far preferred when he got to the point as quickly as possible when the news wasn’t the best. “You, me, and Mothra are gonna go meet up with some friends of ours, and they’ll help us, okay?”

“To get rid of the bad men?” she asked.

“Yeah.” He reached out and tapped her nose. “We’re gonna get rid of the bad men. But there’s something we need to do first.” Leaning forward, Godzilla carefully hunched his shoulders and rested his elbows on his knees. He didn’t want to be looming over her for this conversation. “Those—” he swallowed all the words he really wanted to say, just as he had been since he first found himself in the company of a five-year-old, settling for— “monsters are following us.”

“Will they stop?”

He maintained eye contact, suspecting she had an easier time trusting him when he did. She gazed back steadily. “They’re tracking us, squirt. So they always know where we are. We’ve got to get rid of the tracker.”

She nodded seriously.

Consciously keeping himself from clenching his fists, he finally voiced the fact that he’d like nothing better to avoid. “We’re pretty sure the tracker’s in you, squirt.”

Maddie immediately straightened up, a flash of panic stealing over her face. “I’m not! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m not trying to, I promise!”

The unexpected reaction caught him off guard, but he’d been getting better at following her trains of thought. “Aw, hell, squirt.” Godzilla reached forward and scooped her into his lap. Kid weighed next to nothing. Tucking her against him, he pressed his cheek against her forehead. “No, no, Maddie, that’s not what I meant. I know you don’t want them to know where we are.”

She quieted down, but a faint tremble remained.

He continued slowly, “The bad men put the tracker in you without your permission so they’d be able to find you if something like this happened. You’re not in any way to blame.”

After a few moments of silence, she whispered, “How do we get it out?”

Never in his life had Godzilla expected to one day love someone else _so much_ that it physically hurt him to even _think_ about hurting them. Never in his life had he expected to have a kid, a criminally adorable daughter, who blew every last one of his protective instincts through the roof.

If he could’ve done this in her place, he would a thousand times.

“We have to figure out where it is, and then we have to cut it out.” Against his will, Godzilla’s eyes shut. This was _his kid,_ and he was going to slice her open. It’d be a miracle if he didn’t hate himself by the end of the day.

Maddie didn’t answer right away, and he waited for her to recoil or struggle away from him, or beg him not to, or cry. If she looked at him with fear after this, he wouldn’t blame her. He’d be adding yet another scar to her arsenal.

Her tiny hands alighted on his wrist. Pulling gently, she lifted his hand, and he opened his eyes and leaned back just as she settled his palm where her neck and shoulder met. Before he could ask what she was doing, she had guided his index finger down her back a little ways. There was anearly imperceptible bump beneath her skin.

“I woke up with it,” she told him quietly. “There was a bandage. I asked what it was, and I was punished.”

It took a moment for Godzilla to find his voice. She’d really just—she hadn’t even _hesitated_. “Lean forward for me?”

He kept his finger where she’d placed it as she moved. If she hadn’t pointed it out, he realized as he looked at the spot, he probably never would’ve noticed it was there.

“Is that it?” Maddie asked.

Nudging her back into sitting up, he wrapped his arms around her. “I think so, squirt.”

She smiled slightly down at her lap. “Good.”

Godzilla swallowed. “I’m so sorry for this, Maddie. If there was any other way…”

She made a face but didn’t answer. He stayed focused on her, trying to look expectant without being demanding. Words were hard, and though she was getting better every day, years of abuse wouldn’t go away in a week.

Finally, fiddling with his shirt, Maddie whispered, “Why?”

“Why what, squirt?”

She shrugged with the shoulder not pressed against him. “Why are you sorry?” And she sounded genuinely confused about it, too, like no one had ever apologized for hurting her before—and knowing WASP, that was in every way true.

That familiar burning hatred aimed solidly at WASP reared its ugly head. Godzilla forced himself to take a few deep breaths, because he _never_ wanted to scare his daughter with his temper, _especially_ when it was aimed at the worst sort of people. They didn’t deserve to be called human for what they’d done, for the scars—both physical and emotional—they’d left Maddie with. He’d like to reach down the throats of every scumbag who’d ever reinforced the idea that her pain didn’t matter, and rip their spines out from between their teeth. Pop a few eyeballs while he was at it. Violence was never the answer unless you were a Titan.

But that could—and _would_ —come later. For now, once he felt confident that he wouldn’t start growling, he had to explain a very important concept to his little girl. “It’s not okay for anyone to hurt you. Ever,” he said as evenly as humanly possible. “Sometimes, it’s on accident, but whoever hurt you should still apologize. I’d rather—” _Rip out my teeth with a pair of pliers, cut off my own hand, take a bullet to the heart—_ “never eat pancakes again than hurt you.”

Maddie gasped in genuine dismay, as if that was as awful a thing as any other would-you-rather he’d been thinking off. Someone out there was laughing—or would be laughing, knowing some of the other Titans—at Godzilla making the effort to be child-friendly. Joke was on them, though. He’d do greater and worse things for her sake.

“It makes me feel rotten to the core, squirt,” he continued, “to see you hurt. Even worse if I’m the one doing the hurting.”

She tilted her head a little, and he knew she was weighing his words, seeing straight through to his soul, analyzing every square inch of his expression and body language. It was a survival tactic that wrenched at his guts every time she used it.

Behavior like this was _learned_.

“I don’t mind,” she said, though it was just lilting enough to almost be a question. “I promise not to cry.”

Godzilla shook his head. “If you need to cry, you cry, okay? You’re allowed to cry. I—well, I don’t _want_ you to cry, but—I want you to cry when _you_ want to cry? Understand?”

Maddie nodded slowly.

“And it doesn’t matter if you mind or not. Hurting people is bad.” He considered his current occupation and the weapons he always carried. “Hurting innocent people is bad,” he amended. “If a bad guy ever tries to… take you or something, you have my full permission to do whatever it takes to get away from him, okay?” He desperately hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but it was bound to come up sooner or later. They weren’t safe just yet.

She nodded again.

“Good. So, I’m sorry that I’m going to hurt you. I don’t want to, but…”

Maddie didn’t give him long to spiral into frustration. “Hurt to help,” she said, and then pressed her hand over his heart.

Words were hard, but some gestures were easy.

He huffed and bowed his head over her. “I love you, too, squirt.”

They sat like that until the quiet clearing of a throat from the doorway interrupted them. Godzilla looked over at Mothra and wondered if the dread suffusing his veins was visible in his eyes.

Her own eyes spoke of regret. In her hands, she held what they needed. “I think,” she said softly, grimly, “it would be best to get this over with as quickly as possible.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was so much fun writing the two of them. As you can see, Maddie's a lot more talkative when it's just her and Godzilla. Don't worry, though, she'll warm up to Mothra soon! 
> 
> I really love this AU.
> 
> • [my tumblr](https://star-going-supernova.tumblr.com) •


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick warning, y’all, this chapter starts with the removal of the tracking device! It’s not graphic, but it is surgery on a child, so if that’s not for you, it’s pretty easy to skip. It’s just from when Godzilla asks Maddie if she’s ready, to a couple paragraphs down when he says “Got the tracker.” Also, like, I’ve never surgically removed a tracking device from someone so… suspend your disbelief, I guess. 
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy!

They solved the question of where to do it rather easily. A good light source was more important to both Godzilla and Mothra than an easy clean-up. The counter in the master bathroom was ideal.

They had Maddie sit sideways on a folded towel, so her back wasn’t blocked from the lights. With one leg hanging off the edge, Godzilla sat behind her.

She was so tiny. He stared down at her bony shoulders and too-visible spine and knew that while she wasn’t truly malnourished, he could count each and every one of her ribs. His hands seemed dangerously large so close to her neck, her shoulders, her arms.

This sort of thing, he couldn’t help but think, wouldn’t even phase him if it were his skin about to be cut open. He’d stitched himself up countless times before, and been stitched up by his fellow Titans even more than that. He wouldn’t have even bothered with the painkillers they’d already had Maddie take, or the numbing cream he was waiting on to begin.

Part of him wished they had better anesthetics, but he couldn’t imagine giving Maddie a shot. Not after what he’d seen in the lab he’d stolen her away from. Not with the faint scars and scabs still visible on her arms.

The timer they’d set went off, leaving him with no reason to delay any longer. They were as ready as they were going to get.

Still, he stared down at the scalpel on the counter and couldn’t quite bring himself to move. Standing in front of Maddie, so she could hold her hands during the procedure—or hold her steady if she started to squirm—Mothra seemed about ready to insist they switch places. Before she could try, Maddie twisted around.

She looked at him for a few seconds, freed one hand from Mothra’s, and picked up the scalpel. A jab of visceral parental terror (that he was still getting used to) seared through him, but before he could take it away from her, she had flipped it around, bent her elbow, and lightly poked herself in the shoulder with the blade.

A bead of blood welled up and slowly traced a path down her arm. Maddie didn’t even flinch. By all accounts, she wouldn’t have even noticed it’d happened, if she hadn’t been the one to inflict the injury.

“Doesn’t hurt,” she insisted, almost at what would be considered a normal speaking volume. And then the squirt had the audacity to roll her eyes at him before offering him the scalpel.

Despite the racing of his heart, her little stunt had somehow managed to put him slightly more at ease. “Already learning bad habits, huh?” Godzilla joked as he took it from her. “Can you believe this kid, Mo? Rolling her eyes at her old man like that, tch.”

If he’d said that on the day he’d rescued her, she would have thought she’d done something wrong. She still thought that sometimes, as their conversation downstairs proved. But now, Maddie smiled her tiny little grin and turned so her back was once again facing him.

Mothra chuckled lightly. “I can’t say I’m surprised, given who her father is. Any child of yours would naturally develop some snark.”

Godzilla rolled his eyes back at her before realizing he was more or less proving her point. Her own eyes crinkled with her victory and she leaned forward to faux whisper to Maddie, “Don’t listen to him, sweetheart. He’s one of the naughtiest people I know.”

He could forgive her for that, since it made Maddie giggle quietly. Pride surged in his chest. Teasing, laughing, rolling her eyes—such simple expressions of one’s self that, in the beginning, he could only hope she would be comfortable doing someday. It’d barely been any time at all since then, but she was improving in leaps and bounds.

Whatever he was doing to help her—with her words, her expressions, her emotions—Godzilla desperately hoped he kept doing it. And the added presence of Mothra could only make it better.

Once Maddie quieted down, he finally steeled himself to begin. No more distractions, no more procrastinating. He gently laid his free hand on her shoulder, offering comfort just as much as he was taking some for himself.

Though the sight of his daughter’s blood made his stomach turn, something about the blade no longer being clean almost made it easier to rest it against her skin. He swallowed down all the new apologies fighting to escape. There would be time for those later; as Mothra had said, it was best to get this over with as quickly as possible. “You ready, squirt?”

Maddie’s entire body went still in a way he’d only ever seen other Titans accomplish. “Yes,” she said, sounding very serious and very sure and not at all like she was about to cry.

The lack of tears didn’t make him feel like any less of a monster, but it did give him the strength to begin. His hand was as steady as Maddie’s back. His little girl deserved nothing less than his best work.

It was almost criminal how easy it was to make that first cut. For all the agony it was causing him, he felt like it should have been harder.

Maddie didn’t so much as make a peep. Mothra’s eyes darted between the two of them. He could see the question she didn’t dare voice: had he started?

Godzilla nodded.

As much as he wanted to clean the blood from her back as he went, it would’ve been a futile waste of time—and he had no interest in prolonging the procedure. He cut carefully, slowly and meticulously making his way deeper beneath his daughter’s flesh to find the tracker. Mothra was humming softly, he distantly registered, but his focus had tunnel-visioned too far for him to enjoy the soothing melody.

The tracker wasn’t dangerously deep, which was a small mercy, but it had still taken a few careful passes of the scalpel to reach. Using a pair of retractors, he held the incision open with one hand and went after the tiny device with forceps. He removed it without any trouble.

“Got the tracker,” he said as he set it aside. “How you doin', Maddie?”

“Doesn’t hurt,” she said, and for as grateful as he was that she genuinely didn’t sound like she was in pain, it made his stomach clench to know that it wasn’t all the numbing cream’s doing. No, this wasn’t the worst thing someone had done to her, and there was no telling what sort of twisted experiences she’d suffered through in the past.

“I’m gonna stitch it up now, okay?”

“Mm,” she answered wordlessly, probably since nodding wasn’t an option.

Godzilla was sure he’d never made neater stitches than these, not on himself or anyone else. But in case this scarred, like hell would he accept some slapdash mess forever marking her back. It was with bone-deep relief that he set the needle aside and closed his eyes, finished with his task.

“You did a wonderful job,” he heard Mothra say to Maddie. “We’ll wrap the cut up, and we’ll be good to go.”

“I won’t pick at it,” Maddie responded quietly.

He could hear the warmth and smile in Mothra’s voice when she reassured his daughter, “I’m sure you won’t, sweetheart. That’s not why we’re wrapping it.”

“But…” Maddie trailed off before seeming to gather the courage to finish. “Why else would you?”

And the implication of that…

He opened his eyes in time to catch pure murderous intent cross his girlfriend’s face. Her saving grace was that she wasn’t facing Maddie, having turned to gather up the gauze pads and thicker strips of soft linen. He himself heard his jaw creak when he clenched it too tightly.

“Open wounds can get infected really easily, squirt,” Godzilla managed to answer while Mothra composed herself. “It’s safest to keep them covered while they heal. And it prevents things like your shirt from aggravating it and making it hurt worse.”

He could practically feel Maddie processing that, comparing it to the inhumane procedures she’d dealt with at the lab, and accepting it. Good. She deserved to know that her safety and wellness was a top priority to him. Not—data or whatever garbage she was used to.

He and Mothra worked together to secure the coverings, looping them over her shoulder and horizontally around her upper chest, all while sending each other reassuring looks of _“we’ll rip their throats out later, dear, now’s not the time to lose our heads.”_

“All done,” Mothra said, stepping back. “Now—”

Whatever else she might’ve said was lost, because, despite having just had home-surgery, Maddie swiftly spun herself around on the towel and relocated herself into Godzilla’s lap. His hand automatically moved to rest on her bare back, careful to avoid the fresh bandages.

“Squirt, what are—”

Her forehead thunked against his sternum, and she spoke without looking up. “It didn’t hurt,” she said, in a tone that was actually forceful. He was sure his surprised mirrored Mothra’s, clear as day. “So, _stop_.”

Holy—had she just said stop? Of all the things he knew she struggled with, telling someone to stop doing something that she didn’t like was up in the top five hardest. She’d been taught that saying “no” or “stop” was an act of rebellion worthy of severe punishment. And yet, she’d just told him to stop.

Mothra frowned and shook her head a little, obviously taking note of the shock and amazement that he wasn’t bothering to hide. He shook his head back, indicating he’d explain later. For now, he bent forward a little to be closer to Maddie, who hadn’t moved an inch.

“I hope you know how _proud_ I am of you for saying that,” he said softly. He waited until she gave a tiny nod in response. “And that you know I’m not even a little bit mad about it, okay?” The hesitation was longer this time, but she nodded again. “But I do need you to explain what you want me to stop doing, squirt. Remember, I still can’t read minds.”

Maddie cautiously tilted her head without pulling back, until she was peeking up at him with one eye. He kept his smile gentle and close-lipped until she offered a tentative smile back.

“You’re being mad at yourself,” she finally whispered. “I don’t… I don’t.” She took a deep breath, trembling faintly. “I don’t want you to be mad at yourself.”

He carefully hefted her into his arms. “Okay,” he said simply, as if her word was law. As far as he was concerned, it may as well have been. There wasn’t much Godzilla wouldn’t do for his daughter. “I’m still not happy about having had to do that, squirt, I won’t lie about that, but I promise not to beat myself up about it from here on out.”

Tucking her face against his neck, she nodded once. “Good.”

Keeping his grip relaxed but firm, Godzilla finally tore his gaze from his daughter and realized Mothra had left the bathroom at some point. Preparing to leave, if he had to guess. They had a long journey ahead of them, and they couldn’t afford to hang around here much longer. Even with the instinct to _move_ burning through him, Godzilla didn’t budge from his spot.

It was only another minute or two before Maddie’s breathing slowed and her grip loosened. Poor kid, probably exhausted after all that.

Without jostling around, he got to his feet and left the bathroom. A pair of duffles waited on the floor of the master bedroom, already packed and zipped up. Godzilla gently laid his daughter on the unmade bed so he could get dressed in something more appropriate for going on the run.

Just as he was tying up his boots, Mothra returned. “The van is ready,” she said quietly. Nodding at the duffles, she added, “I left room for Maddie’s clothing, once we obtain some. If there’s anything I’m missing—”

“I trust you, Mo.”

She smiled at him as she retrieved the fluffy hoodie for Maddie. Going over to stand over the sleeping child, he watched a slight crinkle form between Mothra’s eyebrows.

He guessed at her thoughts. “She looks dead, doesn’t she?” Mothra shot him a look. He shrugged. “I thought so too, at first.”

“I didn’t notice last night, when she was under the covers. She’s barely breathing.”

“You wouldn’t believe how slow her heart gets.”

Mothra set the hoodie down and stepped away from the bed. “That must have been a fun discovery.”

Godzilla grinned wryly. “Don’t tell Kong, but the first time she fell asleep after I found her, I panicked. Thought I’d managed to miss something that got her killed. I nearly crashed the car from being so distracted with trying to wake her up.”

She laughed into her fist. “You’re secret’s safe with me,” she reassured him.

Rolling his eyes, he stared over at Maddie, who was indeed disconcertingly still. She rarely moved in her sleep, from what he’d seen. “Not a very promising start to my parental career,” he finally said. It came out much less like a joke as he’d intended.

Mothra placed her hand on his arm. “On the contrary,” she said, “I think you’re doing very well as a father. And you’ll only get better with practice, love.”

He must have looked as unconvinced as he felt, because she swatted at him before forcing him to meet her eyes. “It’s true,” Mothra insisted sternly. “I know you, Godzilla, and I can see there’s not a thing in this world you wouldn’t do for her. Perhaps the intricacies of parenthood are unfamiliar to you—to both of us—but you’re off to a far better start than any of WASP can claim.”

“But how do I know if it’s _enough?_ ”

Scoffing, Mothra flicked at his forehead. “Don’t play the fool with me, Godzilla. You’ve had her for less than a week and she’s already calling you her dad. How can you possibly think you won’t be enough for her?”

Godzilla frowned. “She doesn’t call me her dad. Haven’t you noticed she doesn’t call anyone anything? Addressing people is… a work in progress.”

The gleefully mischievous tilt to Mothra’s mouth had and would always concern him. “While we were waiting for you to return,” she told him with the voice of someone who _knew_ they’d won the argument, “she distinctly said ‘my dad’ before she fell asleep. ‘If my dad gets back,’ to be exact, presuming I remember correctly.”

“She—really?” Had anyone other than Mothra been witness to the embarrassing hope in his voice, he’d have given them a concussion and claimed they imagined the whole thing. The soft look she gave him was answer enough.

_Dad…_ he was a _dad_ …

“Save the existential crisis for the car,” Mothra interrupted his thoughts with a pat to his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this the end of my writer’s block? Heck if I know, lol. It felt really good to write again, especially in this verse. It’s a personal favorite of mine, I must admit. 
> 
> Thank you for your patience, you're all the bees knees!! 
> 
> •[my tumblr](https://star-going-supernova.tumblr.com) •


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a pretty relaxed chapter, very fluffy. I’m thinking I’ll introduce the Chens in the next one, maybe even the MUTOs. We’ll see, we’ll see. 
> 
> Hope y’all enjoy!

They stuck the tracker on a passing vehicle with hopes of sending their pursuers on a wild-goose chase, even a short one. Any advantage would help, especially since they wouldn’t be starting their real journey just yet.

Supplies were necessary. In particular, clothing fit for a child.

“Will an hour be enough time?” Mothra asked Godzilla as they walked through the doors of a mall in the next town over. She held Maddie in her arms to better disguise the fact that she was only wearing an adult hoodie. While they found clothes, Godzilla would pick up other essentials—first aid supplies to supplement what they already had, food suited to the road, and new phones for each of them, as a precaution.

It wouldn’t surprise Mothra if he also returned with something for Maddie. A new father with the chance to surprise his daughter, especially when she’d likely never even seen a stuffed animal before? _Of course_ he would.

“Should be,” he said. He hesitated before splitting off from them, though, and Mothra knew why.

Moving off to the side, so they weren’t blocking anyone’s way, she rolled her eyes teasingly before passing him his daughter. He huffed good-naturedly even as he tucked Maddie into his side, letting her perch on his arm.

Tilting his head to look Maddie in her eyes, he softly said, “I know we’ve done this bit before, me leavin’ you with Mothra, but…” He briefly glanced around at the loud, crowded mall. “Not with so many people around. How’s your heart, squirt?”

“Fast,” she whispered. Her tiny, trembling fingers clenched in his jacket, and even Mothra could see the way her eyes darted around. “My stomach feels funny.”

“Sick funny, or wobbly funny?”

“Wobbly.”

Mothra marveled at them. Godzilla hadn’t known Maddie for long, yet he seemed to effortlessly fall into the specific type of language she best communicated with. She loved him all the more for it.

“You’ll tell Mothra if it turns into sick funny, right?” He waited for Maddie to nod before continuing. “It’s perfectly fine to be nervous, squirt. Mothra will protect you just as well as I could. Pinky promise.”

Godzilla held up his pinky in the small space between them. Maddie stared at it for a few seconds before raising her own and tapping it lightly against his. Mothra chuckled quietly to herself. Godzilla wasn’t nearly as restrained in his amusement, laughing with his full body. In the food court beyond them, Mothra spotted a few people turn their way, only to smile at the sight of a father laughing with his daughter.

She’d tear WASP apart with her bare hands to keep them safe, to ensure there would be many more moments like this.

“We’re still working on pinky promises,” Godzilla said to Mothra, smiling. “The hour’ll be up before you know it, squirt.”

Maddie nodded slowly. She didn’t protest when she was handed back to Mothra, or when Godzilla finally managed to force himself to walk away.

As Mothra walked toward their own destination, she tried to think of something to talk about to ease Maddie’s nerves. Before she could settle on anything that wouldn’t upset her, Maddie quietly spoke up. “I know how to pinky promise. He showed me.”

She raised her pinky and made a curling motion with it. “Shake, not tap,” she continued. “But he laughs when I tap.”

It took conscious effort for Mothra not to stop in her tracks and squeeze the child in her arms. Her heart felt full to bursting, and not for the first time. “Your secret is safe with me,” she said instead.

A quick little smile flitted across Maddie’s face. She leaned her head against Mothra’s shoulder and relaxed. Mothra hadn’t even realized she was so tense.

Maddie, she was coming to realize more and more, was exceptionally good at making herself, or certain aspects of herself, go unnoticed. The picture it painted—of why such a skill would be necessary—was an increasingly ugly one.

They reached a store with clothes appropriate for a child Maddie’s age. Once they found the section for children, Mothra carefully set Maddie down. “If you see anything you like, let me know, sweetheart. I’ll pick out a few things and you can tell me which you like best. How does that sound?”

“Good.”

The area was devoid of people for the most part. Every now and then, someone would wander past them, down one of the nearby aisles. No one paid any mind to them, though Mothra couldn’t help but notice the way Maddie stayed not just within sight, but in grabbing range. She seemed hyperaware of their surroundings, which Mothra knew from experience was exhausting.

Hoping to help her relax a little, she asked, “You trust Godzilla a lot, don’t you?” Mothra took care not to make her tone accusatory. Just a simple question to start a simple conversation.

Maddie nodded, and after a pause where she appeared to debate whether or not to verbally respond, quietly said, “He rescued me. He was angry at them. He yelled a lot.” She picked at a shirt hanging off a rack. “Yelling is loud. It’s…”

When she hesitated, Mothra remembered what Godzilla had said about emotions. “Was it scary?” she asked. “Sometimes, when people raise their voices, it makes me afraid.”

“That’s allowed?” Maddie asked, facing the floor.

Crouching down in front of her, Mothra told her, “Yes. And it’s okay to find things scary.”

“They lost their patience when I was scared. I wasn’t supposed to cry.”

Cupping Maddie’s cheeks in her hands, Mothra said, “You’re allowed to cry, Maddie. Crying feels good, and there’s nothing bad about it.”

Maddie nodded and whispered, “He said that too.” She remained silent until Mothra had stood back up. Perhaps she found it easier to speak when she wasn’t being scrutinized so closely. “It was scary when they shouted,” she continued, quiet as ever. “My heart went too fast. He didn’t scare me, not even when he was yelling. Because he was yelling at them.”

Mothra thought she could hear the unspoken. _No one had ever yelled at someone for me before._ She hadn’t gotten the whole story of her rescue, but she could imagine Godzilla’s rage. If it was anything like what she’d seen before, it must’ve been a terrifying sight to behold.

Ironic, then, that the very thing that cast fear into men’s hearts endeared Godzilla’s daughter to him.

A slight tug at her pants distracted Mothra from her thoughts. Looking down, she met Maddie’s wide, blue eyes, which quickly turned away. Following the child’s gaze, she spotted a t-shirt facing them. It was light blue with a green leafy design along the bottom, but more importantly, three brightly-colored little tree frogs were printed on it to appear as if they were climbing up the shirt.

“Do you like that one?” Mothra asked.

Slowly, cautiously, Maddie nodded.

She smiled encouragingly. “Let’s see if they have your size, sweetheart.” And if they didn’t, they’d get the next size up, because there was no possible way they would be leaving the store without one of those exact shirts.

When they left to meet up with Godzilla, Maddie was wearing the frog shirt.

• • •

By that point, on the other side of the state, a dozen elite members of WASPs mercenary and retrieval team were intensely following the unpredictable route their targets were taking. All they needed to do was wait for the child to be in a vulnerable position, ripe for snatching.

None of them were strictly against kidnapping in broad daylight, by their employer had been explicit: the less attention they drew, the better. Now that the kid had been even slightly exposed to the greater world, making her disappear could prove… irritating if the wrong eyes were drawn to the situation.

So, the small army of vehicles remained inconspicuously distant from the tracker’s location, in an effort to keep the child’s guardian from noticing them and possibly instigating an incident on a busy highway. Witnesses were tedious to deal with.

As a result, they had yet to realize that the vehicle the tracker’s signal was emanating from was a taco truck.

• • •

Propped up on Godzilla’s hip, Maddie stared at the sight before them. He swallowed down his laughter, but really, there was something so wonderful and charming about seeing her discover things that had been old news to him for decades. It was like seeing the world through a fresh pair of eyes, and he doubted it would ever get old.

“What is it?” she finally asked.

“It’s called a merry-go-round. You sit on the animals and the whole thing rotates for a few minutes.”

The look she gave him was one of pure bewilderment. Understandable. On paper, how could a merry-go-round be fun? People—not just kids—got a kick out of it, though, and when he’s seen it at the end of one of the mall’s hallways, he came to the immediate conclusion that yes, he and Maddie were going to go on it.

Standing at his side, Mothra was smiling, and he knew her well enough to know she was laughing on the inside. “Have you ever been on one?” she asked.

“Once, long time ago,” and then softer, “I’d just been shot, so I didn’t enjoy it much.”

She snorted indelicately into the palm of her hand, turning her face away.

To give her a moment to compose herself, Godzilla focused on Maddie and asked, “You don’t get dizzy easily, do you?”

She silently shook her head, still staring at the bright, whirling colors. With her new sneakers, frog shirt, and shorts, she passed well enough for any other ordinary kid. Maybe it was just him, but there was still something just slightly _off_ about his daughter. Her wild hair, maybe, or the tight set of her shoulders, or the calculating glint in her eyes.

“You wanna go on it?”

“Why?” she whispered.

Godzilla hummed. “It’s supposed to be fun, I guess. Something about spinning, or going fast. I promise it’s not dangerous. I’d stay with you the whole time. See?” He jerked his head at the carousel as it slowly came to a stop. Numerous parents were standing beside their children. “But,” he leaned forward so their noses were nearly touching, “if you don’t want to, we won’t.”

Maddie’s silence, then, was contemplative, not distressed. Funny, that he could tell the difference. She wasn’t panicking about trying to figure out how to say no, she was weighing whether or not she wanted to give the crazy spinning thing a try.

“I want,” she sounded out, slow and deliberate and still painfully cautious, “to try it.”

“You’re the boss, squirt.”

“I’ll take pictures,” Mothra said as he began to walk away. He shook his head in amusement at the glee in her voice.

Godzilla hung back as the swarm of parents and children rushed, laughing and loud, to pick their animals for the next ride. “You get to choose which one you sit on,” he told his daughter. “Unless someone else has already called dibs.”

In the corner of his eye, she mouthed _dibs_ with a new look of confusion.

They circled around the side, passing a zebra, a horse, a pig, and some bizarre snarling creature he didn’t recognize, before Maddie pointed at one ahead of them. “Excellent choice,” he said, stepping up onto the platform to set her down in the saddle on top of the animal.

She gently tapped her ankles against the plastic feathers and ran her pointer finger down the back of its long neck while he buckled her in. “Is it real?” she asked.

Godzilla took in the truly ridiculous ostrich—legs wide in a sprint, neck held stiffly up, its beak opened in a battle cry—and nodded. “Believe it or not, yeah. Those things actually exist. And they’re bigger than this.”

Maddie leaned up to pat the top of its head. “It looks mean.”

“It’s an ostrich, squirt. Grown men can’t handle the sight of one of these things runnin’ full speed at them.”

The attendant circled by to check the seatbelts, and after he’d moved on, Maddie said, “I think I like ostriches.” She looked up the roof of the merry-go-round. “What happens now?”

“We’ll start spinning, really slow at first, and there’ll be some fun music. Once we get going faster, try and wave at Mothra when we go by.”

She nodded earnestly like he’d given her a serious mission to complete. When the ride jerked slightly into motion, her hands snapped to the gold pole sticking through the poor ostrich’s back, gripping it with white-knuckles. Godzilla placed his hand on her back and widened his stance to readjust his balance.

As the carousal reached its maximum speed, Godzilla could admit to himself that he understood the appeal. Though it was probably more fun than relaxing for kids, he found the steady breeze and gentle rocking of the platform nice. And as a parent, getting to watch an excited smile spread across his daughter’s face would never not make him happy. She laughed, a little confusedly by his estimation, as if she wasn’t quite sure why this was so enjoyable.

Kids were strange creatures, to be sure. Maddie just so happened to have a mindset where she recognized that.

They did manage to wave at Mothra, standing in a sea of other adults armed with their phones. She waved back, and Godzilla got the distinct impression that she was laughing at him.

This, he realized as the repetitive circus music bore into his head, was the first perfectly ordinary, no trauma involved, thing he and Maddie had done so far. No would-be kidnappers. No tracking devices. No thousand-yard-stare of remembered traumatic experiences.

Just a dad, his daughter, and an ostrich, oh my.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone wants to suggest what stuffed animal(s) Godzilla got for Maddie for the next chapter, I’m all ears.
> 
> Love y'all! ❤️
> 
> • [my tumblr](https://star-going-supernova.tumblr.com) •


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